


I will be king, and you?

by skamsnake



Series: Ziggy Stardust Series [3]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Classic SKAM locker struggles, Fantasizing, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Robbe is so gone, Sander is ExtraTM, What else is new, aren't we all lbr, canon compliant kinda, filler scene, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-29 01:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/pseuds/skamsnake
Summary: Robbe wakes up saturday morning at the beach house in urgent need of a cold shower...
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: Ziggy Stardust Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528016
Comments: 10
Kudos: 307





	I will be king, and you?

**Author's Note:**

> So pain week is upon us, and I can't write Sander POV without crying so instead I decided to go back to this lil fun drabble I started back when they were all still at the beach house, featuring a few nods to future clips. I hope it'll make you smile <3
> 
> Title is from Bowie's 'Heroes' because, obviously.

***

_ Never been a time like this  
_ _ ain't nobody grind like this nahh _

Robbe senses the neon light around him more than he sees it, feels the thrumming of the bass in his feet and the lyrics play on his skin more than he hears them.

_ Used to all talk they shit  
_ _ I let them all talk they shit yahh _

It feels like he’s floating, like he’s walking on air, as he approaches Sander with a confidence he barely recognizes as his own. 

Sander just seems to bring it out of him, to make him own up to his needs and wants. And right now what he _ wants _ is for Sander to fucking _ kiss _ him already.

Doesn’t care if his lips are currently occupied with someone else's. She’ll just have to wait. He reaches up and pulls at the collar of Sander’s white shirt, stained in fake blood and probably lipstick but Robbe couldn’t care less, there’s no going back now. 

Sander leans away from Britt and turns his body towards Robbe’s, faces suddenly only inches apart.

“I have a suggestion” Robbe says lowly, eyes locked on Sander.

“Yeah? And what might that be?” Sander asks, a smirk forming on his mouth that Robbe feels an urgent need to lick at, to _ bite_.

“Instead of pretending like you’re kissing me, why don’t you just kiss me _ properly_?” 

Robbe hears his own voice speak, even if he doesn’t really recognize it, feels his hands pull at Sander with such force, with such _ need_, it feels like he might fall backwards with how much he wants this. Wants _him_.

“Fuck” Sander breathes against his lips, stumbling forward and grabbing at Robbe’s hips to walk him backwards until he’s flush against the wall, pressed up between Sander’s warm body and the cool concrete wall, lips crashing together in a kiss so desperate Robbe feels like he might faint.

_ Now everybody ride my dick  
_ _ but they ain't living life like this nahh _

He couldn’t care less who’s watching or what they’re thinking. Doesn’t care that they know. Because now _ he _knows too. Knows how warm Sander’s lips are, how good his tongue tastes. Knows how firm his chest feels under his shirt, how deeply he moans when Robbe slides his fingers into his hair, in turn sliding a knee in between Robbe’s thighs.

He’s wanted this, needed it, for so long now, it feels like he’s known nothing else. Even if it’s just been _ five _ damn days, it feels like forever.

“Mmhh someone’s excited this morning” he hears murmuring, still grinding against Sander, but it feels like he’s slipping through his fingers, fading away like a fata morgana too good to be true.

“Well good morning to you too, _ stud_” 

He jerks awake, realizing there’s no more neon light, no more thrumming bass, no more Sander. There never was, just the worst bunk bed anyone’s ever laid in and the world’s worst boyfriend lying in it, wanting to be anywhere else but here.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he pulls back in chock and runs a hand through his hair, still sticky with white body paint and hairspray from last night.

“Don’t be, it’s hot” Noor chuckles and turns towards him, sliding a hand down under the covers to the most inconvenient hard-on he’s sported since that one evening when his dad made him watch an old action movie featuring a young Van Damme. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ he grabs her wrist as calmly as he can, “I should probably take a shower first-“

“I don’t mind...” she purrs and inches closer and he pulls back even further, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the bed now.

“I feel gross though” he runs a finger across his cheek, showing her the smeared white paint on his fingertip.

“Want company?” she smiles sweetly and Robbe hates himself for not wanting it, but even more so for not being honest with her about not wanting it.

“It’s a men’s shower” he smiles apologetically.

“With bath stalls and locks, right?” she smiles mischievously and Robbe bites the inside of his cheek, kicking himself inwardly for having to come up with yet another excuse. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel too well” he pushes himself up on his elbow and at least that wasn’t a lie, the whole room suddenly spinning. 

“Okay, I hope a shower will help baby” she yawns and turns back on her other side and Robbe feels relieved in a way he knows he’s not supposed to, knows she doesn’t deserve.

Tiptoeing out of the room, he glances at the bottom bunk at the far end of the room, frowning slightly at the empty spot next to Britt. He picks up a clean towel and walks to the building with the shared bathrooms, the cool morning air doing little to ease the effects the dream still lingering in his mind, on his skin, in his goddamn _ pants_.

The room is empty, he registers with relief as he walks back to the stall at the furthest end of the room, fumbling a bit with the old, worn lock on the door.

He takes a quick look around, the bright yellow laminate of the stall sides a stark contrast to the green 70’s tile on the wall and floor. The large gap under the partition wall isn’t doing much to provide privacy besides the obvious blocking of the view. Still, Robbe is eager to get out of his Halloween attire and in the shower, leaving his clothes on the small wooden bench next to the stall door.

He steps under the hot stream coming from the shower head above him, closing his eyes an letting the warm water soak through the dried up patches of paint in his hair, soothe his sore muscles, but he’s still tense, still teetering on that edge, _ still painfully hard. _

Without thinking too much about it, he decides to do what he would usually do, what every boy would do about an inconvenient morning wood. He’s usually pretty effective with this, it doesn’t have to take more than a couple of minutes. 

He’s tried thinking about Noor, tried focusing on what he likes about her, like her biceps and her tattoos and her septum piercing, her sweet personality and how smart she is when she tells off the boys, but his mind usually betrays him and brings up the most recent random search from his phone’s private mode, that is definitely _ not _ Noor.

This morning though, it’s about efficiency more than anything. The others will be up soon and he just needs to get his mind off things, or maybe just _ one _ thing, and he needs to be quick about it. Definitely shouldn’t think too long about how good Sander’s fingers look holding a blunt, or how soft his hair looks when the wind plays with it, _ and honestly how is it possible to be jealous of air? _ Definitely shouldn’t think too hard about how fucking hot Sander looks in army clothes or how inviting his lips are or how tight his jeans fit over his hips, how good those hips would feel pressed against his own-

Robbe feels his mind spiralling, catapulting him back to that dream and the deep thumping bass, that delicious throbbing pulse in his body and in turn his hand slows down, as if his body wants to go back to that moment, in Sander’s arms, to savor it, to _ elaborate _ it. Like how Sander would grab his thighs and lift him up, make Robbe wrap his legs around his waist. How he would kiss and lick possessively down Robbe’s neck, making Robbe moan into his ear as he grinds down against him. 

He’s already so close, but he wants to stay here a little longer, _ just a little longer_, with Sander’s mouth on his, fingers pulling at the hem of Robbe’s t-shirt, whispering against his lips how much he can’t wait to get it off him- 

Robbe feels the pressure building with rapid speed, just as he notices the pressure from the shower head above him slowly ease off, as if the two were connected by some sort of rude inverse relationship, stealing his release and leaving him with nothing but frustration.

Logically, he knows it’s probably just the old water heater that’ll need a bit of time to refill. Still it feels unfair. Groaning loudly, he shuts off the water, still working himself aimlessly with the other hand.

“Day-day-de mm hm da-da-da-ba ba”

Robbe freezes, distantly registering the front door shutting somewhere, followed by footsteps and the distinct sound of music playing in someone else’s headphones. 

Without thinking, and for no particular reason, Robbe throws himself on the wooden bench in his stall and pulls up his feet as if what he was doing is illegal.

“These are the days it never rains but it pours  
People on streets  
Ee-da de-da-de”

The sound of footsteps is getting closer and Robbe holds his breath, eyes peeled on the yellow door as if he was in fact trying to see through it.

The person stops by the stall just next to his and steps inside and Robbe lets out a small sigh of relief, rolling his eyes hard for bringing himself in this situation. He wonders for a moment if he could just step down and turn on the shower again, when he finally recognizes the lyrics from Under Pressure.

He blushes and tries to cover himself up. As if Sander was able to see through walls and find him there naked on the bench, hard in his hand. As if he was able to read his damn mind and the filthy things Robbe was doing to him in it, as if he was able to see for himself what was causing this particular and pretty persistent hard-on. 

He wonders for a moment if he could somehow escape unnoticed, put down his feet and put on his clothes, sneak out the door. Instead he finds himself glued to the wall, listening to Sander undress next door and turn on the water.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Who the fuck would shower in water this cold?” Sander complains to himself, but it seems the water heater worked surprisingly fast and before Robbe gets to do anything about his situation, Sander is under the water, humming away happily and Robbe can’t bring himself to move as much as an inch. 

There’s just something about this, about being this close to Sander, listening to him, feeling the water heat up the air between them, without Sander knowing. It’s terrifying and tantalizing in equal measure, and Robbe feels a little bad but at the same time he feels so so _ good_.

“I, I will be King  
And you, you will be queen”

Sander starts singing again, humming in between words and sentences and Robbe’s breath is stuck in his chest. He can’t help but imagine Sander just behind that thin yellow wall that separates them, standing there under the hot stream with his eyes closed, water trickling down his face to his open mouth, over his soft lips and down his neck and chest, along his abs and further down to that small trail of dark hair-

“'Cause we're lovers and that is a fact  
Yes, we're lovers and that is that”

Robbe bites his lip and leans his head back against the wall, feels the pressure building again with new found speed, his hand seeking the source of it with a desperate need to just feel. To just _ be_. 

“We could steal time just for one day  
We can be heroes forever and ever  
What d’you say?”

Sander continues humming and Robbe continues listening to his voice, to that deep rumble that seems to seep through his skin and into his body, flooding him with immense joy and an irreversible want, just as unapologetic as it is unexpected, to wake up to that voice every single morning for the rest of his life.

He kinda wishes he could get up under the water too. Wishes he could walk up to Sander and put his arms around him, Sander in turn reaching back to grab at the back of Robbe’s neck to pull him closer, fingers buried in his wet hair. Wishes he could reach around Sander too, wrap his hand around him, thick and hard and _ his _. 

“And we kissed, as though nothing could fall  
And the shame was on the other side  
Oh we can beat them, forever and ever  
Then we could be heroes just for one day”

Robbe feels the muscle in his thighs tense, his body pushing back involuntarily against the cool wall and his toes curl against the tile under his feet, biting his lip to keep quiet as his hips thrust into his hand with more effort than grace, but Robbe couldn’t care less right now, because Sander is right here, naked and wet, and Robbe’s never needed this more.

When he finally comes, it feels like he loses sense of time and space for a moment, a white hot burst of energy like the brightest burning star momentarily blinding his senses and blanking his mind, and there’s nothing left but the aftershocks of his orgasm rippling through him like a million drops of water trickling over his body. 

He’s not sure how long he sits there, just that it sounds like Sander might be done soon and he needs to get the fuck up and out of there. 

Wiping his hand in the towel, he puts on his clothes and shoes as fast and quietly as possible, running his clean hand through his now clean-ish hair before stumbling forward to unlock the stall door. The lock doesn’t give and Robbe tries with the other hand, then with both, trying and failing to unlock it just as he hears Sander shut off the water. 

It’s not like Robbe can’t see the irony of it all, not like he’s completely lost his sense of humor. It’s just, it would be a lot more funny, if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. 

He sighs and tries again, still quietly, fingers fumbling with great fervor, and still no luck, pausing when he hears Sander walk towards his own door, stepping outside his stall as if it’s the easiest thing one could do. And there’s no going back now.

“Eh.. S-Sander?” he stutters, clearing his throat.

“Robbe?” he hears Sander on the other side and squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment, “Robbe, are you in there?”

“Uh- uhm yes”

“Ha! You were- Were you in there this entire time?

“Yeah” Robbe admits, wanting to sink into the floor.

“Oh my god, my shit singing-” 

“No! eh- uhm no, don’t apologize.. I’m sorry for eavesdropping on you”

“Yeah you know what, that _ is _pretty rude” Sander chuckles, “I’ll forgive you, though”

“Thanks” Robbe smiles at how Sander somehow always manages to ease the tension he feels inside.

“So uh.. are you coming out, or?” Sander asks, knocking gently on the door.

“Eh.. yeah, so the lock is kinda stuck” Robbe blushes, pulling at the door handle and lock to show Sander he isn’t making it up however unreal it sounds, “I can’t open it”

“Oh my god, really?!” Sander laughs, grabbing at the door handle too and Robbe can’t help but think about how close their hands actually are right now, even if there’s a wall and a broken lock between them.

“Yeah. Could you maybe go get someone-” 

“Step back” Sander interrupts.

“Step- what?”

“Step back, away from the door”

“Sander, what are you-”

“I’m coming in” Sander shouts, and it sounds like he’s pulling back slightly to gain momentum, “Éen twee, drie!”

Robbe stumbles backwards into the shower as far back as he can until he’s backed up against the tiled wall just as Sander kicks in the stall door, pulling it off its hinges in the proces.

“Zalig” Sander smiles satisfied and Robbe stares at him and the mess he’s made, shocked and speechless _ and maybe a tiny bit turned on _ but Sander doesn’t seem affected at all, just extends his hand towards Robbe.

“Allee, kom” he smiles and nods towards the exit he’s made for the both of them.

“But the door, Sander? We have to-”

“Kom” he repeats and this time Robbe follows his lead and takes Sander’s hand, stepping out through the broken stall door opening.

“So that song you were singing...“ Robbe smiles shyly as they walk from the building back to the beach house. It’s still early, no other sound than the crashing of waves against the shore close by.

“Heroes” Sander smiles back, his hand reaching up to Robbe’s shoulder, “I _ knew _you’d like him” he squeezes his shoulder gently and Robbe melts into the touch, trying not to stumble and fall. 

“Don’t worry” Sanders winks as if he’d just read his mind, “I’ll make you a playlist”

***

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm skamsnake on tumblr, come say hi <3


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